


help

by madriversong



Category: Borderland Series - Terri Windling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 04:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/630220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madriversong/pseuds/madriversong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People have been going missing in Soho.</p>
            </blockquote>





	help

“New to Bordertown? Let me guess. You’re a runaway.”

The bartender shoved three full glasses to a boy across the counter who smirked at the suggestion but gave quick thanks for the drinks before picking them up precariously and turning away.

Dodging through the crowd, and shoving when necessary, the lithe young man made his way across the floor of the club to where his friends sat at a corner table, away from the stench of cigarettes and sweat. A frenetic folk tune with a heavy bass beat blared from a band playing in the back, but their own voices boomed enough that they could hear each other.

“Hey, look who finally brought the drinks!”

“Grey! What took you so long?”

Grey set the drinks down, raising his eyebrows at the two as he settled onto a seat. A frown dragged at the corners of his lips, and he leaned in closer. “Man, someone was talking about a bunch of missing people.”

“Can’t be kids from here in Soho,” said Freckles, a boy with a small fireworks display of ginger hair sprouting from his head. “No one would care enough to notice.”

The third, Howl, a veritable hulk of a boy with closely cropped dyed-black hair, pursed his lips and tilted his head at Grey. “Who’s missing? ‘Cause if it’s some fey kid…”

Grey shook his head. “If that were the case, I wouldn’t have bothered. It’s random, near as I can tell, but there’s been enough slummers missing from _the Hill_ that people are starting to notice, you know? The families are fussing.”

“The Hill? Fat cats. Serves ‘em right,” said Freckles.

“There’s a pretty big reward for finding the missing people. ‘Nuff to keep you cozy,” Grey said, taking a drink and pausing mid-swig to watch his friends over the grimy rim of the glass.

At this addition, Freckles sat up a little straighter. “I’d be more than happy to take their money if it just means finding some kids.” He looked excitedly between his friends, grinning.

Grey nodded vaguely. While he didn’t entirely agree with Freckles’ philosophy on wealth, he couldn’t fault the boy for wanting to stick it to the pretentious aristocracy that made up most of the people up on the Hill.

Swirling amber liquid around his glass, Howl frowned. “Seems the Silversuits should handle this, doesn’t it?” Freckles laughed so loudly, Howl couldn’t help but smile sheepishly.

With a smirk, Grey shook his head. “Coppers aren’t much good, even if some of the missing people _are_ from the Hill,” he said. “You haven’t been in B-town as long as us. Can’t take things like law enforcement or coffee for granted.” He paused to lick his lips. “Anyway, I saw some flyers they were showing around. Some elf kid, and a little girl. Dark hair. Probably seven or eight. Both went missing in Soho last week. Girl’s parents are offering to let anyone who finds her to name their price.”

Freckles let out a low whistle. “I’d be all over this if _I_ were a copper.”

“Bet the elves aren’t offering near as much,” Howl said.

Grey arched an eyebrow but refrained from arguing with his friend. Howl was a member of the Pack, a human gang well-known for their racism. Grey didn’t care much one way or another about race; he’d lived in Bordertown long enough to know to leave well enough alone.

The music faded out and the atmosphere changed, as though a spell had been lifted. Perhaps it had. Someone talked over a microphone, but the boys couldn’t understand the words above the chatter that picked up in the absence of music. Seeing that both of his friends had finished theirs, Grey took a final swig of his drink then set the mostly empty glass down.

“Let’s get out of here.”

 

Out on the street, the air felt unexpectedly cold and sharp, where it had been damp and uncomfortably warm before they had gone into the club. An autumnal weather front must have blown in from across the border. Plainly in view and nearly full, the moon cast out a sickly halo of pallid light. Grey looked up at the sparsely clouded sky and momentarily tried to place the constellations, which were different here from where he’d grown up.

Built upon the ruins of an old abandoned city, Soho was the infamous residential district south of downtown Bordertown. Its various old buildings were mostly populated by squatters and runaways like Grey and his friends. The club they had been in existed on a corner of Ho Street, one of the area’s main thoroughfares and less sketchy than much of the rest of Soho to the south. As such, Ho Street and the immediately surrounding area remained neutral territory among the gangs. Other areas of town were claimed and fiercely protected, left alone as they were by B-town’s nominal police force.

Freckles and Howl followed Grey along the cracked, dirty pavement of the sidewalk, passing around people heading toward the clubs now behind the boys. Once far enough along, Grey turned south down a side street with few pedestrians and none of the spell-powered street lamps illuminating Ho Street in unnatural hues.  Free from the worry of bumping into people, he turned around to face his friends, walking backwards. “Well?”

Freckles quirked a wry grin. “Place was kind of lame. Wish we could go back to Danceland.” He kicked playfully at a puddle of fetid water stagnating in a pot hole from some recent bout of rain.

“You and Howl got us kicked out,” Grey said, raising an eyebrow.

“Damn elf was…” Freckles didn’t finish speaking, his attention drawn by Howl’s muscled arm nearly hitting him in the face as it was raised to point at something down the street. “What are you doing?” he hissed, stepping back from his friend and staring at him angrily for a moment before actually following the direction he had indicated. Grey stopped walking and slowly turned to look as well.

A small figure stood, looking into the window of one of the buildings along the way, both hands and her face pressed up close to the glass. She had to be aware of their presence. Most kids would have been scared off by a group of older boys wandering down a dark side-street, and they hadn’t tried to keep their voices down before, but she remained still.

 “She look like she’s from Soho to you?” Howl asked, dropping his voice.

Grey watched her for a moment, squinting to try to see better, then he blinked and looked back at the two of them. “I really doubt it.” Even from the distance, her cleanliness stood out incongruously from the dirty buildings and grungy people.

“Hey!” Freckles yelled, already on his way toward the figure, a small girl with long charcoal brown hair, not unlike that Grey had seen on the flyers and described. She turned to stare at this boy with fiery hair heading towards her. A chill wind blew abruptly down the narrow side street, and she turned up the hood of a red jacket against it. “Hey!” Freckles called again.

With an anxious sigh, Grey motioned Howl to follow Freckles. They’d have to have a talk with him about cornering small girls in dark streets at night, even if this _did_ turn out to be the missing girl. Grey seriously doubted that, though she looked to have come from wealth.

By the time they caught up with their friend, he had squatted down in front of the child, who remained motionless, staring at him with round, dark eyes. “Come on, darling,” he coaxed. “Where are your parents? Are you lost? Do they have a lot of money? We can take you back to them. _Ow!_ ” He glared back at Howl, who had kicked him roughly at the mention of money.

Curiously, Grey cast a glance at the window where she’d been looking and blanched at the sight of a plethora  of strange little symbols which had been etched into the glass. He knew there were some occultists in the city who thought they could make magic work, had seen things like this in graffiti. But though the sight wasn’t uncommon, its connection with a little kid left him uncomfortable.

When Freckles started to turn back towards her, the girl finally chose to react. “Help me!” she cried then darted off down the street.

“Come on! It’s totally her!” Freckles bolted after her as soon as he regained his feet. Howl, out of an adopted sense of urgency, followed. Unnerved and a little bewildered, Grey hung back a moment. He had seen the flyers. No question. This wasn’t the same girl at all.

He ran after them, shouting.

 

Howl and Grey found themselves chasing after Freckles as he pursued the little girl. She proved a wicked runner compared to the three older boys, dodging down shady alleys and disappearing round the corners of increasingly dilapidated buildings, only to be found again dashing out across another street. Freckles lost all sense of direction, but he was convinced she was one of the missing kids, carried on by the conviction that catching and returning her would reap a huge reward.

Besides, she had asked for help, hadn’t she?

When finally they managed to catch up, she disappeared down a rickety flight of stairs and into the lower level of a derelict apartment building. Freckles skidded to a halt at the edge of the passage downwards, his senses perhaps finally catching up with him. Grey realized where they were first, glancing around as they stopped, panting, at the edge of the stairs. “This isn’t friendly territory anymore,” he breathed. He pointed at a bent and faded street sign. “This is… We’re dead if we’re caught here in the middle of the night.” Before Freckles could retort, Grey cut him off, breathlessly berating his friend. “What the hell is wrong with you? That wasn’t the missing girl, you idiot. You’re gonna get us killed! Chasing some girl halfway across Soho into dangerous territory- “ He looked back in the direction from which they’d come, uncertain anymore of the safety of even those streets. “You’ve probably scared her half to death. If you’re wrong, and she goes home to tell mommy and daddy about the scary madman who chased her around, you’re on your own when they come for your head.”

“Now hold on!” Freckles gasped, still catching his breath. “She’s gottabe from the Hill. They’ll be glad I brought her home. And she asked for help! _You_ heard her.” Finding no sympathy in Grey’s pale eyes, he turned to look at Howl but only found tired confusion and apprehension.

“She wasn’t calling for _your_ help,” Grey said through clenched teeth. The anxiety of being in an unfriendly part of town had hollowed his stomach and gripped his chest. “Let’s get out of here.” He threw another glance back the way they had come. This part of town with its moldering, older buildings and shambling roadways verged on suburbia, but it was too quiet, even with the distant city noise bleeding out from Downtown.

Ignoring his friend, Freckles turned back toward the stairs. “We have to find her.”

Grey gave the building before them a thorough, incredulous inspection. Large slats of wood covered most of the windows, and no glass remained in those that weren’t boarded. Time and neglect left the bricks a moldy brown, the roofing in shambles.

“She went in _there_?” For the first time, Howl, who had been looking at the old apartment building the entire time, spoke in a gruff voice. “No way in _hell_.” He folded his arms tightly across his chest, eyebrows knit in a worried line across his forehead. Grey watched him warily and looked back to Freckles. Of the trio, Howl had the greatest reason to worry. The Pack directly rivaled the gang that claimed this neighborhood.

“Pansies. She said she wanted help. Maybe this,” Freckles said, gesturing to the lower level of the building, “is where the missing people are being taken. Maybe it’s elves doing the kidnapping!” He looked pointedly at Howl, who shuffled uncomfortably, shaking his head in frustration.

Grey nearly argued but a movement caught his eye. “Guys,” he said in a low voice. “Look.”

It took a precious moment for Grey to point his friends in the right direction. Down the street, they could make out perhaps half a dozen tall, thin figures, visibly white hair nearly glowing in the moonlight. Though hard to make out in the dark, they wore the telltale red leather of the gang that laid claim to this part of town. Staring wide-eyed at his friends, Grey pointed silently at the stairs to the grey-green door the girl had disappeared through. Freckles nodded, didn’t even try to conceal the smug satisfaction of getting his way, and headed down the steps.

Howl shook his head furiously. “No way,” he whispered. “I’d rather try my luck in a fight with _them_ than go in there.”

Grey licked his lips, searching for the words to convince him. “No other choice now. Even if we run back, they’ll see us.” He spoke rapidly, watching the distant figures instead of his friend. Then he jerked suddenly and grabbed Howl by the shirt in an attempt to drag him down the stairs. Howl’s resistance required much more force than Grey was willing to expend, so he let go and looked imploringly at his friend while backing slowly downwards. “They’ll see us. Come on!”

Reluctantly, Howl complied.

The door creaked shut behind them as Freckles pushed it closed. Inside, the darkness would have been absolute had it not been for cracks in the wood that shuttered a window near the ceiling. Grey pressed his face against it, trying to see if they had been spotted. The group was still distant, but their pace hadn’t changed. He and his friends hadn’t been seen. Slowly, he pulled away from the window and turned again to face Freckles and Howl.

“They didn’t see us. We should wait a few minutes and make a run for it. We could get out of here, and even if they see us, we’d have a good enough head start to make it,” he said. “Probably.”

Howl nodded vigorously, even making his way back toward the door.

Freckles stamped his foot. “No,” he said, his voice quivering with nervous energy. “Come on. Think what they’d do to that little girl if they found her!” Grey stared blankly at the ginger-haired boy. His time living in B-Town had taught him many things, most importantly self-preservation.

 Seeing the reservation in Grey’s eyes, Freckles turned once again to appeal to Howl. “Think what the Pack would do if they found out something happened to that girl, and you could have done something about it. They’d have to break the truce.” He gave Grey a sidelong glance. “And we’d be responsible.”

Apprehensive, Grey turned his eyes to watch the brooding face of Howl. Slowly, Howl set his jaw in a grim expression. He couldn’t reasonably argue against Pack loyalty. “We’ll look for her, but I want to get out of here _fast_. It’s damn creepy.”

Over-ruled, Grey sighed and dug into his pocket for his lighter, which he flicked. In the minimal light cast, they could see that they were in a dusty hallway with wallpaper hanging in yellowing tatters from the walls. The air felt dense, more deeply cold and dank compared to the breeze outside. Steeling himself against this, Grey began to lead the way. “You’re an idiot, Freck,” he muttered.

The initial part of the hall had only one door, which would not open, locked or else pinned shut by something heavy. Freckles jiggled the rusted handle a few times before giving up and moving along. Grey followed at a short distance. Living in Soho, he’d seen enough to know not to be the one sticking his head around dark corners. Apparently under a similar impression, Howl stayed close to the light.

They turned a corner to find a flight of metal stairs leading down again rather than up toward the rest of the apartments as might have been expected. Howl stopped. “No, come on, Freckles. This has gone on long enough. We should get out of here. There’s no way a little girl would go down there.”

“There hasn’t been another way out besides the way we came,” Grey said quietly. “It’s a basement. She had to have come this way or we’d have seen her leave.” The place was a firetrap. No wonder it had been left to molder. He cupped his hands around the small flame of his lighter for the minimal warmth it provided against the yawning cold lapping up from the lower level, letting Howl and Freckles decide whether to continue.

“Come on,” Freckles urged, he skipped down the stairs then looked back after peeking around the doorway. “There’s a light down this way!” He raced off down the hall. Howl tried to follow at first but slowed again to stay in the light. As far as Grey was concerned, Freckles could be in the dark alone if he wanted to rush off ahead like an idiot.  

When they reached him, Freckles had entered one of three doorways in the hall. This one hung ajar to a storage closet. A hole from where part of the ceiling had collapsed let in light from a ground floor window. Disappointed, Freckles stood by the door, waiting for Grey and Howl to catch up. Grey looked into the room and through the hole in the ceiling.

“She could’ve climbed out that way,” Howl said hopefully.

The moldy remains of cardboard boxes and various unidentifiable supplies littered the floor, the entire area smelling strongly of stale water and rust. Grey reached up to touch the hole in the ceiling, and brought his hand back to his face to peer at the rust-colored residue now clinging to his fingers. He wrinkled his nose, wiped away the stuff, and shook his head when he stepped back out. He had to admit to a certain curiosity about this place, though. It had been abandoned long ago. While probably picked clean by now, there existed the chance they might find something cool. Like reminders of the old city, or a more intelligent friend who wouldn’t chase small children into abandoned cesspool apartment buildings and then drag them along for the ride.

The other door to the side refused to open, so they moved to the end of the hall. It twisted around and stepped down to a large, frigid room with concrete floors and pillars. The smell grew so damp and moldy that the hall seemed to have been thick and dry with dust by comparison. At the entryway, Grey glanced at the walls and blinked, halting abruptly.. Several dozen tally marks littered a space on the wall, haphazardly placed and many incomplete. A shudder ran visibly down Howl’s spine at the sight. “Bastards. You might be right about this after all, Freckles.” His voice echoed.

“Shh!” Grey cautioned, flicking out his lighter and sliding it into his pocket as they moved along. Across the way, a pair of spellbox-powered lamps hung from the ceiling, illuminating enough of the far end of the room that the boys could see. Their footsteps, however softly they tried to walk, echoed in the large room. The lights flickered. Grey inhaled sharply and then caught his breath in an attempt to keep his own heart from leaping out his throat. He flung an arm out to stop Howl from advancing, but Freckles was already making his way across the room.

How could he not feel it? Something was _wrong_.

Freckles had lived in Bordertown long enough to know the smell of magic, hadn’t he? Though the whiff of it had been so faint below the smell of rust, Grey couldn’t be sure he hadn’t imagined it. Howl gave him a strange look, easily pushing his arm away. “May as well finish looking,” he tried and failed to whisper.

 Fear gripped Grey, inexplicably. He wrestled inwardly to beat it down, but found that only made him feel ill, so he gave up trying. “Dammit,” he breathed, and followed but only for a few steps before another flickering of the lights arrested his will to search dark corners or stray far from the entrance.

Freckles and Howl poked around the room, looking with morbid curiosity at grimy russet tally marks like those in the hall. They ran jagged patterns low upon the walls all around the perimeter of the room and its pillars. They were roughly the width of a small finger, smears of some greasy substance, never more than a couple inches in length but irregular, some darker or lighter than others.

 Howl swallowed.

Again the lights flickered but a little more spasmodically than before, and this finally set Howl on edge. He moved back near the center of the room where Grey stood with his hands thrust into his pockets. “Come on, Freck, she’s not here,” Grey called, his voice wavering in betrayal of the queasy fear twisting his insides.

The red-head lifted a hand in acknowledgement as he peeked around a final pillar to look at one of the darker corners and leapt back, startling the other boys. “There you are!” he cried, surprised. “What are you doing here?” He glanced around and leaned forward. “Are you okay?”

The girl huddled in the corner, clutching something to her chest, face obscured by the hood of her jacket. Directly addressed, her head snapped up to attention. He staggered back, away from her, fear shocking through his posture. Her eyes were two charcoal beacons, entirely black, malevolent, anything but the eyes of a child. Expressionless, she stood and revealed a little red vintage toy phone, which she dragged, walking toward Freckles at a slow pace and coming into full view of Grey and Howl, who gasped at the sight of her eyes. The lights flared and dimmed, arrhythmic.

Slowly, she raised the receiver of the phone to her ear, staring unblinkingly at Freckles and said in a small, childish voice, “Help me.” Then repeated the words in a shriek. And smiled.

“ _Oh hell_ ,” Howl yelled. “Get away from her!”

Freckles turned back towards his friends, eyes wider than seemed possible, mouth agape. Grey backed completely against the far wall, hand clasped to his mouth to stifle any sound that might try to escape, while Howl started forward toward their friend, yelling. Before any of them could move far, Freckle’s anguished shriek rent the air.

Unable to look away, Grey watched helplessly. In the inconstant light, the girl dropped the phone, and a pair of wraithlike tentacular forms snaked out from behind her, whipping and cutting through Freckles’ unprotected flesh like butter. His screams halted Howl’s advancement just long enough for the girl or the thing to notice him. With the slightest tilt of her head the lightfast whiplash of a tentacle sent him careening back into a pillar, where he slid limply to the floor.

 Bleeding from a dozen places, Freckles gasped and hugged himself and tried to move away from the girl, staggering backward like a drunkard.

The ghostly appendages splayed out. At first Grey had thought the horrible things came from the little girl herself, but he could see now that they belonged to some shadowy creature which now drew itself up from behind her. It blended with the shadows in the room as thoughmade of them and was only truly visible when the lights were at their brightest. Even then, it effervesced into a multitude of nightmarish shapes, the only constant being the sharp appendages and a mouth too-wide, brimming with shark-like teeth.

Freckles staggered and lost his balance. The creature took stock of its prey, sprouted several more sets of whip-like appendages, many of which coalesced into the semblance of human limbs. Like the whiskers of some animal, it brushed those over Freckles’ body while the boy whimpered and sobbed pointless apologies, caressing his face, his arms, his legs. Then it lofted him upside down and tore him apart so suddenly, Grey’s breath caught up in his throat. His legs gave out from under him, and he dimly recognized that this probably _was_ where the missing people had gone.

Freckles was _everywhere_.

Scrambling back to his feet, Grey cried, “Howl!” at the bulky mass lying against the pillar. Howl stirred weakly then, regained consciousness with a sudden pump of adrenaline. Shakily, he tried to stand up. “Howl, get out of there! Howl!” Grey’s voice scratched in his throat. He backed toward the hall.

The thing grew bored of what had been Freckles when Howl stirred. Grey dared not call out again but froze in the doorway, rooted there by a terrible fear-fueled hope. The darkness when the lights flickered grew longer, the moments of illumination shorter, dimmer. Howl stood, faced the thing. Now he crawled, wounded, back toward the door, screaming in the dark.

Grey’s stomach lurched. Vaguely, he thought he heard crying, but he couldn’t tell if it came from outside or if it were his own. In a brief moment when the lights flashed, he glanced down the hall and tried to judge his chance of escape, tried to ignore what he was seeing, tried not to be sick, heart pounding. When he looked back, Howl’s eyes pierced through him, terrified and wider than should be possible.. Then he was pinned up against a pillar, the subject of a grotesque vivisection.

Another desperate glance flung down the hall. The girl turned her head up towards him.

The lights went out. 


End file.
